


from the man who lived in a once great nation

by Endermaans (Superbly_obsessed)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Drabble, Gen, I Was Not Having A Good Time, Light Angst, POV First Person, SO ABOUT THOSE FUCKING STREAMS TODAY., This Is Fine, Vague mentions of Wilbur, Wordcount: 100-500, it's totally completely fine! right guys?, unnamed main character - Freeform, why? because i fucking CAN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26905141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superbly_obsessed/pseuds/Endermaans
Summary: I do not know the man who stands in front of me, tall and sure of his place. But I ask him - what was this place?And he weaves me a story of this land.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 10





	from the man who lived in a once great nation

**Author's Note:**

> HEY GUYS! SO ABOUT THOSE STREAMS TODAY- 
> 
> Nah, jk. I ain't going into a rant about those streams but. I may have made a connection. (More in the end notes.)
> 
> Fun fact! I hate my brain! I should be working on my other fic! BUT NO!
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

I looked at the man, who now stood in front of me. Blond hair and blue eyes, the epitome of beauty, some would say. He wasn't much younger than I was - eighteen years old, at the very most.

I looked at him, and his eyes, which must have once shone so bright, are now clouded over with grief. I ask the man in front of me, "What happened here? Why is this place so ruined, and why do you still rule?"

He tells me, "This place was my home, once. It is nothing more than a remnant of a forgotten time, now."

He looks at the broken walls, eyes glazed over, speaking softly, "I built these walls, with my friends, my people. It saddens me to see them now, torn down and blown across the lands." He kneels down, hand pressing into the soft grass below his knee.

He looks at the building, white and standing tall above the scattered remains. "I remember when that building was first built. I hated it then, and I hate it now - that damned building where I nearly gave up my freedom." He leers at it, face twisted into a snarl, tufts of grass laced in his fingers.

He looks at me, again, eyes hardened like steel. "This was my home. And my friend aided in its destruction, and if you ever find him, let him know this - I shall never forgive him for what he's done. Not to me, and not to my home."

  
  


He tells me his name. Thomas, but most people called him Tommy. He tells me the story of L'Manburg, and the story of all its suffering, of all its betrayals, and all the people it lost to the war.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all remember Wilbur singing "My L'Manburg" shortly after he and Tommy were exiled, right? WELL. What he said today, in his stream. Something like, "If I can't have - If we can't have Manberg back, THEN NO ONE CAN!"
> 
> Foreshadowing. It was. Right. In. Front. Of. Our. Faces. AND WE DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE!
> 
> Haaaaaah. That's all I'm gonna say about that.
> 
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!


End file.
